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The Indoctrination (Kimber)
Considering his disposition, most people assumed that Az’s favorite part of the indoctrination was the end of round three, after the sparring. And they wouldn’t be entirely wrong- there was a special kind of joy in watching the announcement, the reuniting of sworn-away friends. But the trick was, that wasn’t the end. His favorite was the last trial, the polesaber creation. Servosis would stand at the entrance, letting them in one by one. And Az would disappear, which probably wasn’t great on the recruits’ nerves, but. He had to be there when they came out. Even before he was Chosen, he always had to be there to watch the ceremony. Creating your lifelong weapon was stressful enough, and the gifted trial even more so. But they always came out with such relief, such excitement. Az would clasp their hand, welcome them to the Blade Guard, and relish in the grins and enthusiasm he got in return. Partners would greet partners, angst forgotten, twirling new blades quite unsafely, telling tales and cooing over new armor. Sometimes a recruit would approach Az, questions or eagerness for the trial, the future. Az doted on these new children, regardless of where they were to be sent. Once all were out, Servosis and that year’s honor speaker(s) would return. They were supposed to be greeters, but Az gradually and happily took over doing that job for them. “Congratulations, recruits.” He’d say, walking down a line of half at-attention soldiers. “Nice sabers. Bloodstone- beautiful. Armor fits you better than those rags from outside, huh? Oh, I haven’t seen a rapier-bladed saber in years! Oh! Is that… Xaphinis’s hilt?” Az’s hand stopped on the offending saber, fingers tracing the inscription. A wave of melancholy- he had fought with Xaphinis, not very long ago. He met the recruit’s eye; they were confused, and a little afraid. “Honor it well.” Az said, and slipped the poor recruit one of the chocolates he’d been giving every recruit he shook hands with. She nodded, meaningfully, and Az continued down the line. Meanwhile, Servosis, Alesis, and Quem huddled by the door, watching with admiration and respect. That was where Thalia found them, differing levels of genuinely in their smiles. She approached and gave Alesis and Quem a shallow bow (they only barely outranked her, now), but her eyes were beyond, scanning the crowd of recruits for a face she both hoped and dreaded to see. And yes, there he was, a not-very-secret chocolate in his hand as he met her eye and waved, grinning. The joy, the excitement in Az’s eyes was unbearable, so she turned to the nobles. “High Herald of War.” Quem said, and gave her an (unnecessary, but kind) bow. “Come to greet the new Guardians?” “A secondary mission, I’m afraid.” Thalia said. “Though I trust our new stock is well-chosen?” “Very.” Servosis said. Servosis was a good man- he’d been Thalia’s mentor and leader as well, in the old days. A single glance into his wizened eyes told her he knew something was up. A small nod loosened her tongue. “Respectfully, Lord Alesis.” she said, and Alesis seemed a little surprised to have been addressed. “I bring word from Lord Secare. The mission he sent Elite Watcher Crow on was met with resistance. He wanted to arrange a retrieval force. He said you’d understand.” Alesis’s face went pale(r than usual). Clearly he did understand. Servosis’s eyes drifted to ‘General’ Az, oblivious, jovial. “He’ll want to go.” the half-elf said. Thalia’s- and a moment later, Alesis’s- eyes drifted over. “He will.” Thalia agreed. High Herald Thalia had known the Chosen for his most formative years- Servosis for every moment since. Alesis had barely met the fellow, but… “He’s not going to like it.” Alesis said. Az caught them looking at him, and gave a confused head tilt. Servosis and Thalia exchanged a look before all three turned away. “No.” they said. “He’s not.” didn’t like it. Servosis had seen ‘General’ Az in battle, an indomitable force of rage and passion. Thalia had seen him broken, young and hopeless and mourning the loss of endless love. The Az of today was neither of those, but also somehow both. Experience and restraint kept him from explosion, but this was not an everyday case. Both his mentors winced when, in reply to Alesis asking confirmation of his orders, Az only said, “Where is he?” “He’s not- we don’t-” Alesis stumbled, unaccustomed to his words being ignored. “We’re sending you to him.” Az blinked, subtlety took a steadying breath. “Is he safe?” “We don’t know.” Alesis said. Az’s breath came out with the quietest of growls. And then he was all business, demanding when, and where, and what he was to do. Answers received, he stormed from the antechamber, posture formal, fists clenched. One of today’s initiates hailed him, attempting to greet their new commander- their new friend. Blade Guard Chosen Az ignored them, and left. Thalia had mentored Az for most of a decade- Servosis even longer. Each believed they knew both sides of him well, and neither were wrong. But neither had known him as an equal, enough to know when not to trust him with himself. Heired, standing at his post by the door, saw only the back of his old friend’s head during the exchange. He saw concern, confusion, hope. He saw Az’s face as he stormed by, eyes determined, lips fearful. He saw the way Az didn’t even look at him as he flew past. And he knew he’d be making a visit, tonight.